


nothing helps, so i'm awake again (i can't sleep)

by jisxngie



Series: stray kiddos [5]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Fainting, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, THIS BITCH IS SO LONG OMG H O W, anyways uh yeah that choreography move i describe in there??? now i kinda want skiz to do it oops, basically jeongin cant sleep and goes to chan, enjoy it i spent a month on this uwu, someone faints!!! just a warning, sort of an open ending?? idk, thats literally the only dotpoint i have for this fic in my au planner document, theyre still idols here bois!!!!, this is unedited so if there are mistakes im sorry, you can interpret it however yall want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 23:58:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16335839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jisxngie/pseuds/jisxngie
Summary: 3:40am. he sighs.chan comes back with two cups in his hand, one smelling like chocolate and the other smelling like his regular coffee.“i made you hot chocolate, it always helped me when i was homesick and couldn’t sleep.”“thank you, hyung.”(alternatively: the insomnia inspired fic that i spent a month on)





	nothing helps, so i'm awake again (i can't sleep)

**Author's Note:**

> this is unedited because fuck that
> 
> in this household we die like warriors bois

_every time you cross my mind, you get right under my skin.  
am i crazy out my mind, the situation i’m in._

 

rain patters against the window, soft, gentle, comforting. the light from the desk lamp flitters softly over neatly organised papers, some crumpled in the corners from the journey from school to home in his bag.

jeongin sighs, leans his cheek against the knuckles of his left hand, tapping his pen against the english books in front of him. a few letters are scrawled neatly on the page, ‘e’s flowing into ‘r’s flowing into an amalgamation of what jeongin thinks is either an ‘n’ or an ‘h’. he scribbles at the top of his page, mindless black lines filling the otherwise empty space. he sighs again, lifting his legs to sit cross legged on his seat.

he glances over to the rest of the room. jisung is snoring away on his bunk, blankets strewn every which way, leg dangling off of the edge of the bed. jeongin doesn’t know how he can sleep like that. woojin is below him, laying on his side facing the wall, blankets pulled up to his chin. he glances over to his and minho’s bunk. minho is sleeping on top, hand dangling off of the side of the bed, blankets pulled between his legs and in his arms like he’s hugging someone.

his eyes flick back to the desk. he reaches for his phone, switches it on, glancing at the time.

1:43am.

jeongin sighs again, closing his books, setting his glasses down on the desk and pushing his chair out.

“i need a drink,” he mumbles to himself, picking up his phone and standing, turning on his heels to head for the door.

 

_and it gets harder just to breathe, feel like the walls are closing in,  
but all i need is some closure._

 

when he peeks out into the living room, the lights are still on, and chan is sitting on their new couch, legs crossed, earphones in, laptop on his lap and blankets thrown over his shoulders. he seems to be focussed on something, his fingers typing away at lightning speed. he might be writing lyrics? sending an email? jeongin doesn’t press, just quietly tip toes past in an attempt to not disturb the older boy.

“jeongin? what are you doing up so late?”

jeongin flinches a little, startled. he exhales deeply when chan apologises.

“i was just getting some water.”

jeongin smiles at the leader, and he smiles back softly, nodding, before putting his earphone back in and resuming his frantic typing. jeongin turns back to the kitchen, flicking the light on and reaching up into their top cupboard to grab a cup. he can still somehow hear the faint clicking and clacking of chan’s fingers against his keyboard, even under the rain outside and his clattering about, trying to get the water jug out of the fridge.

his phone dings with a notification. it’s chan, surprisingly.

 **channie hyung**  
— come sit with me for a bit once you get your drink  
— it gets lonely being the only one awake sometimes, y’know?

jeongin breathes out a soft sigh into his cup, before picking up his phone and turning to the other side of the kitchen.

 **jeonginnie**  
— hyung, do you want a snack while i’m here?

 **channie hyung**  
— yeah, thanks innie

jeongin returns to the living room with his phone shoved between his waist and the waistband of his pyjama shorts, his glass of water in one hand, a cup of coffee for chan in the other and a packet of tim tams he had found in the fridge wedged between his ribcage and elbow.

chan looks up at him, fluffy grey-brown hair fanning messily over his forehead. he smiles as jeongin hands him his cup.

“thank you.”

jeongin settles against his side, pulling his knees up to his chest and pulling one of the blankets thrown on the armrest over his lap, sipping away at his water as he watches chan.

he _is_ writing up lyrics, jeongin notices, as he glances between the notepad in the leader’s lap and the document opened on his screen. the rain is still falling outside, the noise a backdrop to the clicking of chan’s fingers, the loud slurp that resonates through the room when chan takes a sip of his coffee. chan smells like body wash, the vanilla one that seungmin uses all the time, and his clothes smell like the washing detergent woojin always uses (it smells like lavender!). he’s warm, and jeongin leans against him, looking down at his phone.

2:19am.

“jeongin, why are you up so late?” chan asks eventually, breaking off a bit of tim tam with his teeth and chewing away at it while he switches his music to something else.  
“i was studying and lost track of time.”  
“woojin didn’t tell you to go to bed?”

jeongin shakes his head. “he went into our room and collapsed into bed.”

chan nods. “still. you should try to go to bed. you’re still growing.”

“you should go to bed more often, too. you always come home in the morning, wash up, nap, and then go to the company building.”  
“i have to work.”  
“i have to work _and_ go to school.”  
“touché.”  
“what?” jeongin looks up at chan, an eyebrow raised. chan laughs. perks of being a foreigner part 56: confuse the natives.  
“it means i acknowledge your point, because it’s clever.”

jeongin hums quietly, opening up instagram. “touché.”

chan laughs into his coffee, the sound echoing.

“what? what is it?” jeongin asks, in english this time, an exaggerated australian accent hanging heavy on his ‘what’.  
“your pronunciation. it’s cute.”

jeongin flushes, looks away. “of course it is.” he mumbles.

chan laughs again, this time softer. he throws an arm around jeongin’s shoulders, ruffling the younger boy’s hair.

“you really should go back to your room.”  
“you sound like my mum.”  
“haven’t we established that already?”

jeongin sighs, sips his water, chews at a tim tam. the explore feed on their instagram is filled with other idols, fan accounts, dogs, oh look it’s a photo of him, more dogs, and some clickbait thumbnails jeongin falls for every. single. damn. time.

“when do we have a free day next?” jeongin asks. chan hums in question, bringing up his schedule on his phone.  
“next wednesday and thursday.” chan bites off the corners of his tim tam, dunking one end into his coffee and placing the other into his mouth. jeongin watches him.

flyaway strands of ashy grey-brown hair fall over his cheeks, into his eyes. jeongin watches the older’s eyelashes fan over his high cheeks every time he blinks, and he leans against him, craving warmth.

2:35am.

“hyung. cat videos.”  
“cat videos?”  
“let’s watch some funny cat videos. i can’t sleep anymore.”  
“only if you promise you’ll go to bed early tomorrow.”  
“okay!”

 

_i cant eat, i can’t sleep; i get anxiety._  
_when you’re not here with me, i get anxiety._  
_i can’t eat, i can’t sleep, don’t know why you can’t see._  
_you give me, you give me, give me anxi—_

 

friday — jeongin has an exam, an important one that contributes to 60 percent of his final term mark, and as the bus jerks and slows to a stop at an intersection, he leans against the window. hyunjin’s arm presses against his comfortingly, the older boy playing some game on his phone and listening to what he thinks is lauv; his own music drowns it out almost completely.

the bus jerks again, hyunjin apologises when he accidentally elbows jeongin.

jeongin brushes it off, yawns. he silently hopes his foundation hides his undereye bags.

hyunjin rings the bell signalling to stop at the next stop and jeongin quietly thanks the bus driver when they slowly get off. his backside is uncomfortably sore from the barely-padded seats of the bus (he internally curses their manager for being too busy to drop them off at school today) and he walks slightly faster to catch up to hyunjin’s long strides.

“were you up last night?” hyunjin asks, pulling out one of his earbuds and looking down at him as they enter the school gates. “i woke up in the middle of the night and heard talking from the living room.”  
“yeah. i couldn’t sleep after studying, so i went and talked to channie hyung for a bit.”  
“ah, alright. make sure you get enough rest tonight, then, kiddo.”  
“yes, hyung!”

and then hyunjin gets whisked away into his group of friends off to the side of the courtyard while jeongin slowly makes his way to his lockers.

he tucks his books for his first class into his bag, zipping it up and shutting his locker, the lock clicking into place as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

yippee, an exam for practical music second period. jeongin fishes his phone from his pocket, ignoring the distant squealing of the girls standing near his locker.

 

_every time i smile wide, i’m doing fine. does it show?  
‘cause i’m really freaking out, too scared of letting you go._

 

hyunjin and jeongin don’t talk on the way to the company building. jeongin is knocked out on his seat, legs pulled under him and head lolled back against the headrest, tie loosened and first button undone on his dress shirt. he needs the rest before they begin practice that afternoon. hyunjin is looking out the window, too tired to talk or move, his phone unlocked on the game he was playing (he died at 69, nice). jeongin shifts in place, groaning at the uncomfortable position his arm is in, trapped between his body and the cushioned seat of the car.

hyunjin turns his head to look at him. he laughs softly, and gingerly reaches out to adjust jeongin’s arm and his seat so the younger boy is more comfortable.

the rest of the car ride is quiet save for the hum of the air conditioning and the drawl of some news reporter on the radio.

 

 

jeongin shrugs his dress shirt off of his shoulders in the changing room, folding it neatly and rummaging through his bag for the spare shirt he had stuffed in there that morning. when he finally fishes it out, he douses himself in his deodorant and throws the shirt on, quickly moving to change out of his slacks and into his sweats.

chan is busy fiddling with the phone plugged in to the speakers when jeongin walks back in; he recognises it as changbin’s but doesn’t comment on it as he dumps his army green bag next to felix’s light grey one and tucks a long strand of his hair behind his ear.

minho is busying himself with teaching jisung a certain part of the choreography. jeongin watches in the mirror as hyunjin comes into the room and drops his bag, watches as woojin takes long strides towards chan.

“okay! let’s start!” chan calls, the speakers in the practice room blasting the ending to their title track as everyone hurries into position.

6:45pm.

jeongin glances at chan through the mirror as the leader runs into position, and when their gazes meet, chan smiles, all teeth and sunshine and jeongin flushes pink.

the song cuts out, fades back in and suddenly they’re all moving in sync, arms and legs moving to the beat with extreme effort and precision.

 

 

12:54am.

jeongin throws himself into his bed, the sheets cool against his skin, still rubbed raw from the 10 minute shower he had taken just to get rid of all of the sweat and dead skin that had accumulated over six hours straight of training. he stretches his limbs, rolling over and arching his back like a cat before flopping down and checking his phone for any new notifications or messages. the door to the room creaks open and jisung slides in, shirt thrown over his shoulder and hands running a towel frantically through his hair to dry it as best he can. his sweats cling low to his hips and jeongin raises an eyebrow at the waistband of his underwear. (pink? alright. jeongin doesn’t have a problem with that; he likes pink.)

“jeongin-ah, can i borrow your deodorant? i ran out and forgot to get some while i was out today.”  
“mm, okay.”

jisung is a frantic madman, as seungmin would say, when he puts on deodorant. he gets the necessary places and then douses himself absolutely _everywhere_. at least jeongin has nice smelling deodorant.

one by one, they all file into their rooms tiredly, yawning, wishing each other goodnight before collapsing into their respective beds. minho slinks through the door next, elbowing jisung as the blond pulls his shirt on and ruffling jeongin’s hair before slowly scaling the ladder on their bunk.

jeongin can hear chan next door in his room, talking to changbin about something to do with music. the deep droning of his voice is comforting, a distinct contrast to his annoyed tone, or his yelling at practice. it’s sweet, soft, but not quite melodic, hoarse from the day’s efforts. it’s always like this; chan always comes home in the wee hours of the morning with a voice as rough as sandpaper, and his undereye bags almost as dark as the coffee jeongin sees him drink every morning.

jeongin hums when jisung wishes him a goodnight, climbing up into his bunk and flopping onto the soft mattress, immediately pulling the covers over his legs and turning to face the wall.

woojin comes in a little later, hair still wet from his shower and sleep shirt hanging loosely off of his shoulders. he smells like a strange, comforting mix of lavender and coffee and the underlying scent of the cologne minho bought just the other day (firewood and pine, if he remembers correctly).

“jeongin, you going to sleep yet?” woojin asks softly, seating himself on the edge of jeongin’s bed, drying his hair with the small towel in his hands. jeongin shakes his head, rolling over onto his side to face woojin.  
“i think i’ll stay up a bit longer.”  
“it’s so late, though. don’t you have school tomorrow? hyunjin and seungmin are already passed out.”  
“i do— but i’m so tired that i’m not tired. do you understand, hyung?”  
“yeah. don’t worry, it happens sometimes.”

woojin smiles gently down at him, his expression lit with the soft glow of the warm light from jeongin’s bedside lamp.

“anyways, try to get to sleep soon. don’t become like channie.”

jeongin laughs softly, shuts his eyes and leans into woojin’s touch when the eldest ruffles his hair. he nods, hums.

“yes, hyung.”

jeongin watches woojin as he strides over to his own bed, grabbing his hoodie off of the sheets and throwing it on before quickly climbing into bed and pulling the blankets over his legs and torso. jeongin flicks off his lamp, drowning the room in darkness so that the other three can sleep in peace.

he rolls over onto his other side, pulling his blankets up to his chin and pulling one of his pillows close to his chest, wrapping both of his arms around it and drawing his legs up into a fetal position. it’s only the beginning of autumn; it’s already so cold at night, jeongin enjoys it.

he hears footsteps next door, changbin laughing at something chan is saying, the clatter of something dropping to the floor, more shared laughing.

jeongin can’t sleep.

_“well, sleep well then. i’ll be in the living room.”_  
“you never sleep. come to bed for once.”  
“i’m sorry. i’m really busy right now. i’ll go to bed with you guys when i’m free, i promise.” 

jeongin tosses in bed, switches his phone on from where it’s resting on the table at the head of his bed.

1:10am.

he hears the door shut next door, hears a light being switched off and the loud bang of what he knows is changbin hitting his shin on the metal of their bunk bed, hears the low curse falling from his mouth. he giggles quietly to himself.

jeongin sits up eventually, after tossing for minutes on end, and throws the covers off of himself.

it’s like he’s mindless, the way he unplugs his phone from its charger and pulls an oversized hoodie over his long sleeved shirt. he pulls a clean pair of socks over his feet, reaching mid calf before he pulls the door to their room open and slinks out into the hallway. the lights in the living room are still on and when he pokes his head around the corner of the hallway, he sees chan curled in on himself on the couch, earphones in and his laptop resting on the armrest.

he startles when the boy looks up, immediately locking eyes with him.

“jeongin? you’re up again? i thought i told you to go to bed as early as you could tonight.”  
“sorry… i can’t sleep.”  
“want to talk to hyung about it?”

jeongin hesitates for a second, before slinking out into the living room, shuddering at the still cold air despite the heater being turned on to the second lowest setting (felix can’t breathe when the air gets too warm, chan always makes sure to check the temperature). chan lifts the blanket he’s drowning in and lets jeongin climb under, tucking his knees against his chest and leaning against chan’s side. chan’s watching a video that jeongin doesn’t understand, something in english about a dog? jeongin is too tired to comprehend the words.

“so, what’s up? why can’t you sleep?” chan asks, softly, looping an arm around jeongin’s shoulders and leaning his cheek into freshly washed hair.  
“i… i think i’m just stressed. i have my end of term exams, two assignments due, we’re always working ‘til the late hours, our comeback is coming up in a couple of months, it’s just— it’s too crazy right now.”  
“do you want to go home before the others after practice so that you can have your rest? you’re still growing.”  
“…n-no.”  
“why not?”  
“because i don’t want to be a burden to the group.”

jeongin hides his face away in his knees, and feels chan’s gaze on him as the leader shifts so that he’s half hugging the younger boy.

“jeongin—”  
“you— you’re all working so hard for this comeback. i don’t want to burden you guys with having to worry about my health. i’ll be fine.”  
“you aren’t going to burden us, jeongin. you’re not a robot; we don’t expect you to be okay all the time, and we understand, but you’re still so _young_. you need your rest so _you_ don’t become like _me_. you aren’t going to burden us by needing to rest, you aren’t going to burden us with the task of looking after you, you aren’t going to burden us with worrying about your health. what you _will_ burden us with, though, is if you don’t tell us when you’re at your limit. do you remember? what happened to jisung?”

jeongin grimaces at the memory.

(the loud ‘bang!’ of something hitting the polished wooden floors had caught everyone off guard. when they had turned around, jisung was collapsed in a heap, chest rising and falling heavily, his face sweating and bright red. jisung had been hospitalised for one night, then was allowed back to the dorm to rest up.)

“that only happened because he worked so hard without telling us he needed a break.”

chan’s voice is soft, soothing, his lips brushing against jeongin’s temple as he whispers to him, like a lullaby.

chan hums in question when jeongin mumbles something, face still pressed into his knees. “what was that?”

“what if i _want_ to become like you, hyung?”  
“what do you mean?”  
“you— you’re— you’re a great person, hyung. you’re supportive, you’re an amazing vocalist, and rapper, and a producer, you’re good at sport, at being a great role model. you’re the nicest guy on the block, you always cheer us on for things we do. you’re a _great_ leader, hyung. i don’t want to be anyone else. you’re one of the most amazing people i know, channie hyung.”  
“thank you, jeongin-ah, but i’m really not—”  
“you are! don’t you dare even _think_ that you’re not because you _are_!”  
“jeongin—”  
“you work so hard for the rest of us that you don’t take yourself into consideration! you ranked yourself a five out of ten when you were asked how good you thought you were at being a leader. you never consider yourself as good as you are!”

jeongin is looking up at him almost expectantly. his small, fox-like eyes are glistening under the lights above them, and when chan looks into them, he sees nothing but _jeongin_ ; the pure, unadulterated _youth_ behind a gaze hardened by months on end of training, the scars tucked away behind layers and layers of happy memories and sparkling pools of amber in the sunrise, gold in the sunset. he sees the young boy from 2 years ago — small and naive and vulnerable to harsh insults thrown left and right — and he almost crumbles under his gaze.

he gulps down the lump in his throat, and smiles down at the youngest.

“don’t cry, dummy. sleep out here if you want. i still have work to d—”

chan flinches when jeongin slams his laptop shut and places it on the coffee table, getting up, stomping over to the light switches and flicking every remaining light off. he uses the light from his phone to walk back to the couch, picking up two throw cushions and tucking them between chan’s tailbone and the armrest before he forces chan down onto his back, slipping onto the couch next to him.

it’s a tight fit, for sure; two relatively tall (jeongin can hear hyunjin and seungmin laughing from here) boys, squeezed onto a couch.

jeongin throws his arm over chan’s torso, pulling him close, pressing his nose into his sternum, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“sleep. you need it more than i do, hyung.”

chan breathes, heavy, chest rising and falling against jeongin. the boy is warm, arms tight around him, and he smiles. moving his arm as best he can, he pets down jeongin’s unruly raven hair.

“thank you, innie.”

 

_then my heart drowns out my thoughts, my head's about to explode  
what i need is some closure_

 

chan sips his water, leaning back into the cushioned seat of the couch and reading through news articles on his phone. he hears the loud chatter of the other members as they mill around, getting ready for the day. seungmin and woojin are busy in the kitchen, making breakfast for everyone, the loud banging around of pots and cupboards opening and closing fill the air.

chan looks up when hyunjin runs into the room. “channie hyung, do you know where my tie is?”

“no, i haven’t. have you asked jeongin?”  
“yeah, but he doesn’t know where it is.” hyunjin frowns a bit, running his fingers through his messy bed hair. what a mess. chan chuckles.  
“check the laundry. seungmin finished it yesterday.”  
“okay!”

it’s a surprisingly systematic morning, almost everything is in order, and when seungmin pokes his head out of the kitchen to yell that breakfast is ready, chan chuckles as he watches jisung and minho race out from their room, socked feet slipping on the wooden floors. jeongin comes out a little later than they do, hair neat and presentable, dress shirt tucked into his waistband and white and pink dinosaur socks poking out from the black material of his slacks as he pads into the kitchen.

chan slides off of the couch and onto the wooden flooring when woojin stalks out of the kitchen with a plate of hot breakfast in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. it’s their first free day, and chan doesn’t have anything to do (he might go shopping later, though; they’re low on soap).

“sorry if it doesn’t taste that good. nothing beats what you or your mum can make.” woojin chuckles, chan brushes it off with a smile and accepts the food.

hyunjin comes rushing out of the opposite hallway and slips on his feet in a rush to get into the kitchen, his hair a little more presentable than before but his tie on inside out. chan snorts into his coffee, a perfect mix of bitter and sweet and chan silently thanks woojin for always knowing how he likes his coffee. felix gives him a questioning look when he comes to sit down with him, his own food in hand.

slowly, one by one, they all pile into the living room; minho on the couch with his food resting on a cushion, legs crossed and hair still a mess, jeongin and hyunjin off to the side, discussing something about their final day of school.

“seungmin, jeongin, hyunjin, you should probably finish getting ready. our manager is probably already on his way to pick you guys up.” chan sips his coffee again, watching as hyunjin fishes his phone out of his pocket to check the time.

the three of them stand, seungmin slips his blazer on and doesn’t bother buttoning it up as he picks up his plate to return it to the sink.

“jisung! if i come home and your plate is still on the coffee table i am going to scream!” seungmin yells from the kitchen.  
“you already are!” jisung yells back around a mouthful of toast.

minho chokes on his water and hyunjin giggles loudly as he shuffles to the kitchen right behind jeongin.

 

chan ends up fixing hyunjin’s mess of a bedhead, his hair straightener steaming as he curls one more strand back behind the taller boy’s ear.

“there. now go get jeongin and seungmin and hurry. don’t want to be late on your second last day!”

hyunjin nods, picking up his bag and swinging it over his shoulder as he fixes his tie up and spritzes his neck and wrists with perfume before hurrying out the door. chan sighs, flicking the switch off at the wall and setting his straightener down on his dresser.

when he glances in the mirror, he stops for a second.

bruises lay heavy under his eyes, the deep purple brushed over the delicate skin like an artist blending colours. yet, other than that, he looks well rested for the first time in a while.

he smiles to himself, just the slightest twitch of his lips, but it’s still there.

“see you later! we’ll be back this afternoon! jisung, don’t you dare eat the tim tams in the fridge, they’re mine!”

chan snorts to himself; he’ll have to ask his mum to ship some over.

 

 

jeongin comes home exhausted, his eyelids heavy as he steps through the door and slips his shoes off. woojin greets them from where he’s cleaning up the kitchen with changbin, chan nowhere to be found.

“hyung, where’s channie hyung?” jeongin asks when he pads into the kitchen, opening the fridge to pull out the water jug.  
“he’s out with jisung and minho buying some stuff. he says he’s gonna make something for us tonight.”  
“really?” jeongin asks, his voice rising slightly with excitement as he stands on his tippy toes to pull a cup from the cupboard. “hyung never cooks for us these days.”  
“guess he just wanted to be nice today,” changbin huffs, drying the dishes that woojin places in the rack next to the sink.  
“jeongin-ah, can you please grab my phone for me? it should be on my bed.” woojin looks over his shoulder, and jeongin nods as he gulps down his drink and places the jug back into the fridge.

when he passes the living room, hyunjin is already passed out on the couch, long limbs dangling over the edge as seungmin stalks in from the opposite side of the hallway, his own room, with makeup wipes and some moisturiser grumbling that he ‘shouldn’t sleep with his makeup on, dummy’.

jeongin yawns and stretches his arms above his head; he’s so tired.

unplugging woojin’s phone, jeongin softly pulls the door to their room shut again and pads back down the hallway, pulling his blazer off of his shoulders and dumping it in the laundry basket next to the armchair. woojin is leaning against their protruding bench in the kitchen when jeongin returns, laughing at something changbin is saying.

“here you go, hyung.” jeongin passes him his phone, and woojin thanks him softly.  
“did you end up going to sleep last night?”  
“i did… but then i woke up because of something and then i couldn’t go back to sleep again so i went outside and channie hyung was still awake.”  
“what time was it?”  
“around three, i think?”

woojin sighs and mumbles to himself, “that boy and his nightowl tendencies. in any case, you should try to get as much sleep as you can. we have our dance teacher on saturday; he’s gonna check our choreography for the comeback.”

jeongin hums an agreement, although he doesn’t know if he can promise anything.

the doorbell buzzes, a loud ‘we’re home!’ ringing out through the building. woojin pushes himself off of the counter and heads for the door. jeongin pads back to the living room, picking up his abandoned bag from beside the heater and seating himself on the couch, rummaging through his bag for his earphones. chan waddles past, greeting them with a smile and a soft ‘hi’, as he carries two bags to the kitchen. jisung and minho follow suit, like baby ducklings following their mother.

jeongin can still see the deep plum bruises under their leader’s eyes, he frowns.

 

 

“jeongin-ah! can you come here?”

jeongin rolls over out of bed, pulling his hoodie down over his shorts and stuffing his phone into his back pocket. when he opens the door, the smell of food wafts through the dorm, and he shuffles over to the kitchen, where chan is busy cooking away in the kitchen.

“you called?” jeongin asks, voice low from his 10 minute nap earlier, as he peeks over chan’s shoulder.  
“can you please help me?”  
“yeah, okay!” jeongin smiles, padding over to the sink to wash his hands.

chan yawns, turns away from the stove and rummages around in a plastic bag on the counter.

“ _can you cut these up for me?_ throw ‘em in the soup when you’re done.”

jeongin smiles to himself, just the slightest. chan’s accent is heavy in his words when he’s tired, syllables strung out and random english words thrown here and there. they work away in silence, jisung coming in now and then to nab a packet of shapes from the cupboard before returning to the living room, where an episode of bob ross is playing loudly on their new tv.

(jeongin snorts everytime he says ‘beat the devil out of your brush’.)

it isn’t long until they’ve finished up, and jeongin looks on in awe as chan puts the finishing touches on their plates.

jeongin smiles when chan pulls a goofy face as he looks over his shoulder.

“dinner’s ready, kids!”

 

 

despite having eaten well (chan said he made ‘chicken parmigiana’, a common dish in bars back home, and felix had perked up like a child), and taken a long, much needed bath (the others didn’t complain, they love him too much), jeongin still tosses in bed, restless. his fingers grip at the bedsheets as he squeezes his eyes shut, curling in on himself. it’s an unusually cold september night, and not even his blankets and sweats can keep him warm. he tosses again, whining to himself, not quite awake but not quite asleep either; that subconscious state between awareness and absolute vulnerability.

he shoots up eventually, like in those cartoons, his chest heaving, a bead of sweat running down his cheek, down his jawline.

the room is almost pitch black, only just illuminated by the light coming in through the window from the moon. jisung is still snoring away like usual, his foot dangling off of the bed but mostly everything else tucked under his thick blue blankets.

waking up in the dead of night isn’t what jeongin had initially hoped for when he promised himself to get enough rest before their practice the next day, yet when he flips over onto his hands and knees and pats down his bed and checks under his pillow until he finds his phone, the display only glares 3:25am back at him, his wallpaper of him and his brothers far too bright for his sensitive eyes. he leans back on his haunches, breathing softly, deeply, his hand dropping down into his lap almost lifelessly. he blinks, and before he knows it, there’s a single wet droplet against his skin. he stops, freezes for a moment, feels a lone wet streak run down his high cheekbones.

“why…?” he whispers to himself, touching his cheek and retracting his hand like he’s just been burnt.

he hasn’t cried in so long, so why now all of a sudden? he looks back down at his hands, fingers balling against his palms until he’s clenching them against his knees and hiccupping softly, more tears falling from his tired eyes. he hears the shifting of sheets, and when he looks over, woojin has moved onto his back, one hand lodged under his head.

jeongin hastily slaps a hand over his mouth and wraps his other arm around his stomach, trying to dull down his gentle sobs. when he glances over to the door, there’s the faint glow of light from outside. chan’s still awake, he thinks to himself, as he curls in on himself more, his tears wetting his hand and the sheets below him. he chokes out another quiet sob, an almost silent call for help, before he straightens up and wipes away his tears with the sleeves of his sweater. his body’s so incredibly sore, fatigue and the stress from the now-over term of school finally catching up to him, to take their tolls on his body.

“i need to wash up,” he murmurs quietly to himself as he slides out of bed, black and white skeleton socks (that jisung had insisted on getting for all of them for october, chan was laughing too hard to disagree) muffling his footsteps as he clutches his phone to his side and shuffles over to the door.

the water from the tap in the bathroom is cold, cold, _cold_ against his warm skin; it feels good, refreshing, and he just stands there for a couple of seconds, maybe minutes, as he cups his cheeks in his palms and scoops up more water to splash his face. he pulls a clean hand towel from under the sink, and presses it into his skin, drying off his face and when he looks up into the mirror he freezes.

his bags are darker than ever, eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying, a patch of skin near his jaw is starting to dry out from the humid weather lately, and he looks skinnier than before.

(he’s sure he’s been eating plenty, and he’s sure he’s been getting rest.)

shaking it off, he steals some of hyunjin’s moisturiser and massages it into his skin before pulling off seungmin’s headband and throwing it and his towel into the laundry basket next to the shower.

picking up his phone, he flicks off the lights in the bathroom and trudges over to the living room, where chan is perched in his usual spot up against the armrest of the couch, phone in hand and laptop resting on the armrest. jeongin is halfway to the couch when chan finally looks up, but jeongin must look absolutely wrecked if chan doesn’t ask anything, just sits up straighter and pulls the blanket up, letting jeongin slide in next to him. it’s a bit of an awkward position; chan is on his side, propped up on his elbow, and jeongin is flat on his back with his shoulder against chan’s sternum, although their legs are tangled beneath the thick blanket.

“you look like you’ve been crying,” chan whispers, petting down jeongin’s slightly damp bangs. “what happened?”  
“…i-i don’t know,” jeongin whispers back, his eyes fluttering shut for a mere second before they open to meet the leader’s.  
“nightmare?” chan asks, but jeongin only shakes his head, quiet.  
“i just woke up and started crying out of nowhere.”

chan goes quiet for a bit, simply lays there and pets down jeongin’s hair, long fingers running through the soft strands.

“is it stress?” chan asks eventually, voice still as soft, yet with a tinge of concern. jeongin leans into his touch, into his warmth.  
“i don’t know. maybe.”  
“i remember i would always wake up crying when i was living in the trainee dorms alone.” chan chuckles softly, but jeongin hears the hollowness behind it. “it was so lonely, being by myself. but i tried my best.”  
“you’re really strong, hyung. mentally, that is.”

chan looks down at him, soft greenish-grey curls falling into his eyes. “you think so?”

jeongin nods his head. “hyung can get through anything, you’re really amazing.”

“thank you, innie.” his voice cracks just the slightest bit, but jeongin doesn’t pay it any mind, instead leaning into the feeling of chan petting his hair down.

“sorry to ask, but will you get my earphones from my room? i’m pretty sure they’re in the top drawer of my desk.”

as much as jeongin doesn’t want to move away from chan’s warmth, he nods, and slinks off of the couch. when he turns around, felix is poking his head around the corner, rubbing his tired eyes.

“lix? what is it?” chan asks, as jeongin sets off for chan’s room on the opposite side of the room.  
“ _can i borrow your doona? i’m freezing and mine doesn’t help any._ ”  
“ _yeah, go ahead, mate._ ”

jeongin is used to hearing the foreigners speaking english, but chan’s voice is so _tired_ , and drained when he speaks in english, even more so than when he speaks in korean. when jeongin creaks the door to chan’s room open, felix leaning his weight against his back, the room is as dark as everyone else’s and changbin is peacefully asleep in the bottom bunk.

“why are you awake?” felix croaks out, as he tip toes over to chan’s bed and pulls the doona off of the mattress.  
“i couldn’t sleep,” jeongin whispers back.  
“well, i hope you can get to sleep. night, jeongin-ah.”  
“g’night.”

jeongin rummages around the top drawer of chan’s desk a bit until he finds the leader’s earphones, tangled around another cord and getting his fingers caught as he tries to untangle it.

he ends up almost tipping over a small bottle wedged in the drawer as he finally gets them untangled, and he winces, looking back at changbin. the most the boy does is stretch and roll over onto his side, facing the wall. jeongin sighs in relief, and reaches into the drawer to fix the bottle up. he blinks at the label, and frowns just a bit, but he doesn’t pry as he places it back where he found it and shuts the drawer, tip toeing out of the room again and softly shutting the door behind him.

chan isn’t on the couch when he comes back, but he can hear rustling in the kitchen and doesn’t question it as he gets comfortable on the couch again, pulling the blankets up over himself and switching on his phone.

3:40am. he sighs.

chan comes back with two cups in his hand, one smelling like chocolate and the other smelling like his regular coffee.

“i made you hot chocolate, it always helped me when i was homesick and couldn’t sleep.”  
“thank you, hyung.”

the leader climbs over jeongin onto his corner of the couch, tucking himself under the blankets and pulling his laptop onto his lap, plugging in his earphones, passing one to jeongin, who puts it in his ear without question.

“cat videos?” chan asks with a small smile, sipping his coffee.

jeongin breathes heavily, slowly, the cup in his hands is hot but his hands are so cold he doesn’t even mind it. he glances at the older boy as he switches the laptop on and waits, lightly tapping slim fingers against the keyboard.

the bags under his eyes are as prominent as ever, like a splash of vibrant purple against a white canvas, but somehow they’re lighter than before. his hair is frizzy, fluffy, jeongin thinks he looks nice with his natural hair texture. his eyelashes are long enough to fan over his soft cheeks every time he blinks.

“i don’t know.” jeongin smiles softly, even though he might still look like a mess. “i’m kinda in the mood for some dog videos.”  
“dog videos it is, then.”

jeongin shuffles closer to chan, leans his head on his shoulder, and listens to the older’s steady breathing.

and if jeongin saw the half empty bottle of melatonin hidden away in chan’s drawer, he doesn’t comment on it.

 

_i can’t eat, i can’t sleep; i get anxiety._  
_when you’re not here with me, i get anxiety._  
_i can’t eat, i can’t sleep, don’t know why you can’t see._  
_you give me, you give me, give me anxi—_

 

practice on saturday is especially gruelling. chan’s shirt is drenched in his own sweat, and his straightened bangs have gone frizzy and curly from the humidity in the room. woojin arches his back, locking his fingers together behind his head as he stalks around, his chest heaving with the effort of breathing. hyunjin is squatting on the ground, head hung between his knees as he tries to regain his breath.

“jeongin, your arm movements aren’t precise. fix them up quickly, okay?” their choreographer chastises, and jeongin nods from his place on the floor next to jisung, breathing out a soft ‘okay’.

“ten more minutes and we’ll get back into practice!”

they all call out a ‘yes, hyung!’ as their choreographer leaves the practice room. changbin leans against the wall, pulls at the collar of his shirt to try and stop it from sticking to his chest.

“ah, i’m tired,” felix whines, throwing himself back onto the couch next to minho, who’s downing a bottle of water, and seungmin, who’s wiping away the sweat on his brow.

jeongin slowly clambers to his feet to head to his bag, throat desperate for water, but his legs are shaky, unstable underneath him as he takes little steps. it’s exhaustion unlike anything he’s ever experienced before, and not even a quarter of a bottle of water helps him clear his head enough to be able to walk steadily.

he startles and fumbles with the open bottle for a second when there’s a firm hand on his shoulder and he’s being spun around to meet the eyes of chan; they’re tired, hidden behind drenched bangs, but they still look at him with so much concern it feels like he can’t breathe.

“jeongin-ah, are you okay?” chan asks softly, his gaze piercing, like it’s going to pull him apart piece by piece. jeongin gulps, screws the cap back onto his water.  
“y-yeah! i’m fine, why?”  
“your legs look really weak. you should sit out the next time we run through the choreography.”  
“n-no, really, i’m fine.” jeongin shakes his head as he turns to drop his water back down next to his bag. “i’m just a little tired. it’s nothing important.”  
“are you sure?” chan asks one more time, as their choreographer opens the door and walks in, shutting it behind him.  
“yeah.”

jeongin smiles, all teeth and sunshine and his shoulders sag just the slightest in relief when chan sighs but nods, turning to get back into position when their choreographer calls for them to do so.

jeongin takes a deep breath; his body aches in every possible place, every possible way, more so than their other practices. their new title track is as intense as most of their current discography, with their signature powerful, energetic moves and fancy footwork, and it’s almost too much for jeongin’s tired body. almost.

once they’re in position, jeongin hidden somewhere facing the back of the practice room, their choreographer starts the music (well, he plays the end of the song and lets it loop back to the beginning, but you get what i mean).

jeongin is a beat, maybe half of one, late on the beginning. he gets scolded, but not too bad.

the rest of the dance goes about as smoothly as they can make it with their fatigued bodies. jeongin grows more and more light headed with each runthrough of their performance, and his vision goes blurry at some points. his moves aren’t as precise as when they started, and the choreographer stops the music.

“jeongin-ah, do you think this is a joke?” their choreographer chastises again, looking down at the boy.  
“n-no…”  
“then why are you dancing like it is one?”  
“i’m sorry, hyung.”

their choreographer sighs, closes his eyes for a second.

“alright, three more times through and we’ll be done for today.”

chan pats jeongin on the shoulder, looks at him with brown eyes swimming with concern. “are you okay?”

and jeongin looks up at him, but he’s distant, blurry; jeongin’s still heaving for air, and he shakes his head to clear it up a bit.

“y-yeah, i’ll be fine, hyung. don’t worry about me.”  
“are you _absolutely_ sure?”

jeongin nods quickly, but it makes his vision swim again and the light headedness returns but stronger, more prominent.

and chan narrows his eyes but nods anyways, patting him on the shoulder again and squeezing reassuringly.

 

 

it’s halfway through their second last run through when the dizziness kicks back in full force, and jeongin stumbles against felix’s side a little bit, gripping onto his arm for balance as his knees go weak under him.

“jeongin-ah, are you okay?” felix whispers, as chan takes centre stage for his part.  
“y-yeah, just a little light headed is all.”

jeongin forces a smile upon his face and moves into his position behind minho when the other boy has his part. he takes a deep breath, squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, sweat falling down the bridge of his nose and flicking off when he moves forward for his part. in his peripheral vision, and in the mirror ahead of them, jeongin can see woojin and hyunjin sliding onto the floor in front of him, both propped on the ground on one knee and a hand stabilising themselves.

part of his brain tells him to stop, to simply just stride out the front instead of doing their choreographed move, the other part of his brain tells him to keep going, to not be a burden to the team by seeming like exhaustion can get to him that quickly.

his brain seemingly makes the decision for him and, before he knows it, felix and chan are out front, blocking out woojin and hyunjin as jeongin plants his sneakers onto woojin’s knee, then hyunjin’s, and hauls himself up with shaky legs. sweat almost _pours_ down the sides of his face as he looks into the mirror at himself; he’s pale, shaky, the skin under his eyes is bruised heavily with purple and blue and his forehead is creased from how hard he’s furrowing his brows.

and before he knows it, his vision seems to blank completely.

“jeongin—!”

the unhealthy sound of a body slamming against the polished wooden floors has everyone stopping what they’re doing immediately, turning around to see what happened. chan freezes in place — his hands shaking and mind swirling — they all seem to.

jeongin is laying in a heap on the floor between hyunjin and woojin, choking out rushed gasps of air and shivering, the skin of his cheeks flushed bright red.

“jeongin-ah!” chan drops to his knees and rolls their maknae onto his back, watching in near horrification as his body limply rolls over, without any resistance.  
“is he alright? please be alright,” hyunjin whispers, as woojin pushes his bangs back to press the back of his palm against his forehead.  
“he’s burning up really, _really_ hot. we should get him some help immediately,” woojin breathes out, his fingers falling down the youngest’s temple.  
“hyung, call an ambulance,” chan says, looking up at their choreographer, who has an expression that’s a mix of guilt and shock on his face.  
“a-ah, yes, yes, i’ll do that!”

chan looks back down at jeongin, carefully manoeuvers the boy’s head onto his lap and runs his fingers through his sweat drenched bangs, fingers shaking from shock.

“ _jeongin’ll be okay, right_?” felix asks, quietly, crouching down beside chan and hugging his knees to his chest.  
“ _i sure fucking hope so_ ,” chan mumbles back, pulling his hand away.

woojin’s breathing hitches when he looks at chan’s fingers; there’s splotches of deep red, dashed across chan’s three centremost fingers but still there nonetheless.

“he’s bleeding, _where did he hit his head_?” chan ruffles through the long raven strands, gentle yet precise.  
“ambulance is on the way, says to bring him out to the front.”  
“but that will gather attention, right?” seungmin hums, squatting down beside woojin. “there are almost always fans waiting out there since felix visits the cafe so much.”  
“sorry,” felix says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

chan sighs, hauls himself up and then picks up jeongin as if he weighs nothing. chan narrows his eyes as he adjusts his grip, and in his peripherals he can see woojin scrambling to grab their bags from the couch.

“come on, let’s get jeongin outside and then wash up as quick as we can,” chan says, and all of the boys nod.

 

_every time i smile wide, i’m doing fine. does it show?  
‘cause i’m really freaking out, too scared of letting you go._

 

the ride back to the dorm feels like it takes _forever_. it’s only chan and woojin in this car, the others have taken the van.

it’s quiet, almost too quiet. chan watches with uneasy eyes as instagram notifications blow up his phone, all tagging their official group account in photos taken outside of the company building of jeongin being lifted into the back of an ambulance.

“i’m sure he’ll be okay,” woojin whispers to him, like the air is fragile, like something important is going to break if he speaks any louder. “he’s young; he can recover quickly.”  
“and if he doesn’t? what if he doesn’t recover in time for the comeback?”  
“he _will_ , chan. calm down.” woojin reassuringly squeezes the leader’s thigh in his large palm, looking at him with gentle eyes. “remember jisung? hospitalised for one night and then free to go the next day.”  
“but he was so _sick_ when he came home.”  
“he was malnourished, channie. i’m sure that’s all it was for innie, too.”

and _fuck_ , chan is weak for letting something like this get to him.

“you’re not weak, chan.”

chan looks up at the older boy, sees warm brown eyes staring back at him so calmly, so gently, with so much love and care and chan’s really never seen woojin look anything different.

“hyung,” chan starts, looking down, and woojin’s breathing almost hitches. chan _rarely_ calls him ‘hyung’ when they’re alone like this.

“yeah?”  
“i’m tired.”

and it isn’t the first thing woojin expected to come from the boy, but it certainly isn’t the last, either.

“you are?” he asks, softly, leaning closer and pulling chan’s head to rest in the crook of his neck. he nods.  
“i’m worried about jeongin, too.”  
“the nurse said that it was just fatigue and low blood pressure from dehydration. he should be fine by tomorrow at the earliest.”

chan shifts against his neck, turning his head to look out the windscreen.

“do you think he knew?”  
“about what?” woojin raises an eyebrow.  
“about how tired he was, that he was going to collapse sooner or later? do you think he purposely didn’t tell us so that he wouldn’t be a burden to us?”  
“jeongin will never be a burden to us. he just needs some guidance sometimes.”  
“but i feel like it’s my fault he collapsed like that.”  
“why’s that?”  
“whenever he couldn’t sleep, he’d come out into the living room to sit with me and keep me company until either of us passed out.”  
“that’s not necessarily a bad thing, you know.”

chan breathes heavily as they turn into the quiet street their dorm is on, as they slowly pull into the underground parking lot, as woojin checks the time on his phone. 7:22pm.

“how’d you mean?”  
“it means he trusts you to take care of him when he’s tired. he loves you, chan. he trusts you wholeheartedly.”

and if chan’s heart breaks just the slightest, he doesn’t tell woojin about it.

 

 

they receive news about jeongin a couple of hours after they’ve settled down back at the dorms. chan is in the shower when they do, sitting down on the porcelain of the tub and letting the water from the shower head above him patter against his back. he isn’t sure if his eyes hurt from crying, or from exhaustion, or from lack of sleep, but what he does know is that he aches in every place possible; his joints won’t cooperate properly, and his neck is stiff.

he startles when there’s an easy but firm knock on the door, relaxes when woojin’s voice floats in from the other side, weary, tired.

“chan, can i come in?”

chan glances at the door, then down to his legs — he shaved them the other day — then back to the door.

“okay,” he says, softly, but woojin is the most careful of listeners.

the door creaks open just the slightest, and woojin slips in, comfy in sweats and a hoodie.

“they said that jeongin is okay. he’s hooked up on an iv right now since he’s really dehydrated, but they think that he’s going to be fine by tomorrow afternoon.”

chan watches water drip from his bangs, pulls his knees to his chest and looks over at woojin, who’s leaning back against the bathroom sink and tapping away at his phone.

“are we allowed to visit?” chan asks, voice hoarse.  
“should be. do you wanna go see him later tonight?”

and chan would be a fool if he says no, so he looks at woojin, into those warm, tired, familiar brown eyes, and nods.

woojin smiles kindly, pushes himself off of the counter and rests his hand on the door knob.

“sleep as early as you can, tonight, hey?” woojin speaks softly.  
“yeah, i promise.”

the door closes, leaving a hollow sound echoing against the tiled walls. chan stretches his legs in front of him, letting the now-lukewarm water cascade over his pale skin, bruised purple at the knees from their practice sessions and bright red from the heat the water was at previously.

he gets up eventually, switching off the shower and stepping out onto the bath mat, wrapping his towel around his waist.

 

 

the hospital is quiet this late at night.

woojin takes long strides alongside chan’s slightly shorter ones, the heels of his boots clacking against the pristine white tiles. chan bites at his nails out of anxiousness, eyes trained on the floor ahead of him as they turn a corner and pause in front of a door that’s three down on the right.

“okay, jeongin is on an iv right now; try not to bump it around too much and keep your voices low. feel free to leave whenever you’d like, but we do put a restriction on visitor hours unless they are directly associated with the patient, alright? i understand that you guys are very close with jeongin so we won’t be as strict with the times. just check out at the front when you’re finished here.”

woojin nods. “thank you, doctor.”

“not a problem.”

woojin lets chan go in first, the distinct smell of _cleanliness_ piercing through his nose harshly as he slips in, immediately looking over at the bed.

jeongin shifts, turns his head over to look at the door. his eyes are half lidded, tired, delicate purple bruises lining his under eyes.

“hyung?”  
“hey, kiddo. we came to visit.” chan smiles. jeongin shifts over in bed to face them properly.

woojin pulls a chair out for chan to sit down and grabs another one for himself from the other side of the room.

“how’re you feeling?” chan asks softly.  
“tired. just tired,” jeongin sighs, but his lips tilt up into a tiny smile. “i saw the news articles. everyone’s really worried.”  
“for good reason. they literally _watched_ you be lifted into the back of an ambulance unmoving.”  
“how are the others?”  
“shaken, i think is probably the best word,” woojin pipes in, running his fingers through his hair. “i don’t think hyunjin’s going to sleep tonight.”  
“he’d better,” jeongin laughs breathily. chan and woojin join him.  
“you gave us a scare back there,” chan mumbles, his distinct accent peeking through his tired voice and jeongin smiles at it, he misses it.  
“i’m sorry. i didn’t want to let hyung down, but i guess i gave you more of a problem, hey.”  
“listen, kiddo, don’t even worry about it. it isn’t your fault.”

and chan doesn’t take note of the way he feels his heart wrench when the younger boy narrows his eyes at him just the slightest, the slight chub on his cheeks squishing up and casting an even darker shadow underneath his eyes, accentuating his already prominent bags. his eyes don’t have their usual sparkle, their usual happy aura, the glint of playfulness swimming in a pool of brown.

chan gulps.

woojin’s phone rings. it’s seungmin.

“sorry. i’ll be back in a minute.”

woojin excuses himself, jeongin lifts his hand wearily to manage a small wave as the eldest leaves the room, the door clicking closed behind him and leaving them in the dim light of the room.

“hyung,” jeongin says, just as the faint melody of woojin’s voice drifts under the door in the form of a ‘hello’.  
“yeah? what’s up, buddy?”  
“i’m… sorry i never told you about how tired i was. i’m sorry i worried you for all those weeks when you’d ask me if i was okay after practice. i’m sorry i can never get the choreography right as fast as you guys can. i’m sorry for being a burden—”

chan watches jeongin’s facade crack, watches as each individual piece of the youngest’s exterior crumbles away helplessly, falling in the form of tears trailing down the soft skin of his cheeks, the line of his jaw, gathering at his chin before dripping effortlessly onto the material of the hospital gown he’s wearing. chan watches as jeongin weakly raises his left hand to his face, pressing shaking fingers against his eye as a heart wrenching sob tears itself from his throat, loud in the deafening silence of the room.

chan sits in silence, watching the boy in front of him, before he stands from his chair and leans over jeongin, wrapping protective arms around him like he always did back when jeongin was younger, more susceptible to the harsh reality that is being an idol.

“i’m sorry, hyung,” jeongin hiccups, and chan’s never seen him break down this hard.

chan grips at his hospital gown tighter, brings one of his hands up to thread into jeongin’s hair comfortingly, pressing the boy’s forehead into the crook of his neck.

“don’t be sorry; there’s nothing to be sorry about,” chan whispers, feels dainty fingers gripping the material of his hoodie, feels jeongin pulling him closer, sobbing into his neck. “it isn’t your fault. it isn’t your fault. i’m sorry, jeongin. _i’m_ sorry.”

chan feels the wetness trailing down his cheek before his brain has the time to fully process the fact that he’s crying.

he pulls back to look at jeongin properly, and the boy’s cheeks are flushed, stained wet with his tears as more cling to his long lashes. pretty brown eyes are bloodshot, puffy, raw from his constant rubbing. his bangs are messy, pushed out of his forehead and creasing in places where he was pressing against chan’s neck.

his fingers are still clutching at chan’s hoodie.

without thinking, chan leans in to press a feather light kiss between jeongin’s eyebrows, his lips brushing against the soft skin, soothing the younger’s crying.

“you’re a great leader, hyung,” jeongin hiccups, fiddling with the material of chan’s hoodie, not meeting the leader’s gaze. “i could never be like you.”

chan smiles, and jeongin looks up at him, pupils shaking. “you’re perfect just as you are, innie. hyung doesn’t want you any other way.”

“are you sure i’m not a burden?”  
“absolutely.”  
“are you sure i can overcome whatever this is?” jeongin motions to himself.

chan’s heart breaks, another tear silently slips down the side of his face.

“yeah. you’re strong, kiddo. i love you.” chan smiles. jeongin smiles back, grabs chan’s calloused hand in his soft ones.

“love you too, hyung.”

 

 

woojin comes back into the room to both of them passed out, chan resting his cheek against jeongin’s waist, their fingers tangled together.

 

_i can’t eat, i can’t sleep; i get anxiety._  
_when you’re not here with me, i get anxiety._  
_i can’t eat, i can’t sleep, don’t know why you can’t see._  
_you give me, you give me, give me anxiety._

 

hyunjin and felix drown jeongin in a tight group hug when he returns to the dorm midway through the next day with their manager, breathing out sighs of relief and words that sound akin to ‘thank god he’s okay’. they’ve been allowed the next two days off to rest up and to stay out of the public eye while news articles about jeongin circulate around the internet like a wildfire.

“felix hyung, i can’t breathe,” jeongin chuckles breathily, patting the older boy on the back as he immediately pulls away, apologising.

seungmin comes up to him and gently pushes his shoulder. “yah, you gave us a mighty scare back there.”

“i know.” jeongin smiles softly as he sits down on the couch. “i’m sorry.”

 

 

chan comes home later that evening, after spending majority of the day sitting in the studio and contemplating things, two bags hanging from his left hand as he shuts the front door behind him and toes off his shoes. the dorm is quieter than usual, the lights in the kitchen still on and noise of someone cluttering around echoing in the dorm.

“jeongin?” he calls, and the boy’s foxy eyes pop up from behind the door to the fridge, wide like he’s been caught doing something illegal.  
“hi, hyung.”  
“why are you still up? didn’t you literally just get hospitalised yesterday from exhaustion and low blood pressure?”  
“yes, but i still can’t sleep after that.”  
“come here.”

chan deposits the bags on the floor just outside of their kitchen and stretches his arms out, waiting for jeongin to shut the door of the fridge before he slinks into his arms, his slightly taller frame slotting perfectly against chan. it’s eerily quiet at this time of night, not quite midnight, but not quite early enough for them to all be awake, especially after what happened to their youngest member.

outside, the nascent sound of rain pattering against the side of the building fills the empty space in the room, fills the silence, fills their hearts; a reminder of the start of this, of the start of jeongin’s sudden insomnia.

jeongin holds chan closer to him, craving the leader’s warmth, the faint scent of his overpriced perfume, the feeling of having his arms around him.

he feels chan press a gentle kiss to the junction between his neck and his shoulder, then one against his jaw, his temple, and finally, in the centre of his forehead.

“i’ll go put this stuff away and then we’re both going to go to bed, alright? no more super late nights for us unless it’s _absolutely_ necessary.”

jeongin nods obediently, his lips curling up into a smile. there’s the chan he knows and loves.

“i love you, hyung.” he smiles, watches as the leader’s face flushes a healthy shade of pink, a pretty contrast against his translucent skin.

“i love you too, innie.”

 

 

_“seoul—”_

_“los angeles—_

_“new york—”_

_“toronto—”_

_“brisbane—”_

 

“ _sydney, are you ready_!?”

jeongin feels the energy radiating from the fans standing out in the crowd ahead of him as chan’s distinct accent echoes tumultuously throughout the arena, hears the girls and guys screaming for them. stage fireworks fly in front of his eyes as he moves into centre for his part; glitter and confetti blast everywhere and holographic streamers float down from the ceiling in a beautiful mess as they near the end of their final song. the song that ends their first world tour off; the song that they made together, as a team.

jeongin smiles brightly, fondly, as chan slides his way into the centre, taking the final notes as the song dies out and they’re left a panting mess on stage and the fans are screaming and cheering and showing nothing but support and love for them.

they all line up on the extended stage, faces flushed a warm tan under the strobing lights. it’s all too surreal, even as chan looks over at either side of him with a smile. their heavy breaths are loud in the arena from their mics, and jeongin waves to a fan in the front row holding up a sign with his name on it (she shrieks and hits her friend on the arm). it’s scary, the thought of performing in front of people who come from chan and felix’s home country, their home city, but jeongin loves it, loves the thrill as they line up and he squeezes between hyunjin and jisung and looks over at chan.

he’s glowing, the deep, royal violet bruises under his eyes almost completely gone and his eyes sparkling under the lights. jeongin smiles fondly before turning to the crowd.

“1, 2—”

chan smiles, looks out at the crowd, at the masses of people who are _home_ to him.

 

 

 

_“step out! thank you, we were stray kids!”_

**Author's Note:**

> i swear it wasnt meant to get this long okay It Just Happened
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated!!! tell me what you thought uwu


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